Contributor: The Wilshire subway took 46 years. Future projects should skip the decades of objections

In February, Los Angeles Metro began selling T-shirts that said “Ride the D.” They sold out in 24 hours. Metro restocked. They sold out again.

The shirts were a joke, but the demand they pointed to was not. When the D Line’s three new Wilshire Boulevard stations came online on May 8, a Los Angeles subway opening felt like a cultural event — for the first time in a generation.

It should have. A subway under Wilshire Boulevard was first funded by voters in 1980. The three stations took 46 years to build. Many of the Angelenos who voted to fund the original line never lived to ride it.

Now consider Madrid. The Madrid Metro reaches every corner of the city, on time, for $1.65. Right now, the city is building a four-mile underground extension of Line 11 for about $110 million per mile. The first four miles of the D Line cost about $900 million per mile. Eight times as much, and Madrid’s project will be finished in under four years.

I chose Madrid because it is not a low-wage autocracy that bulldozes whatever it wants; Spain has environmental laws, strong labor protections and democratic governance. What it does not have is a permission system engineered to maximize objections. Madrid’s regional government has real authority. Its engineers work in-house, not through endless layers of consultants. Its stations are standardized instead of designed from scratch one by one. The gap between California and Madrid is process and law.

California has allowed a patchwork of gatekeepers to make 46-year subways a predictable outcome. Unless the next governor works with the Legislature to change the rules, future transit projects will face the same fate.

Consider how this works in practice. The Beverly Hills Unified School District spent more than $15 million in school bond money — funds intended to fix aging classrooms — on lawsuits trying to stop the D Line from running under Beverly Hills High School. The district lost every round, and yet the suits added years to the project.

In 1962, Marin County pulled out of the Bay Area Rapid Transit system before construction began, leaving this wealthy suburb of San Francisco without rail and dooming the long-planned Geary Subway that would have served the densest neighborhoods on the West Coast. BART’s extension to downtown San José was projected in 2014 to cost $4.7 billion and open this year. It is now projected to cost $12.75 billion and open in 2037.

Every wealthy enclave gets a veto — or at least a right to stall progress while attempting a veto. Every rider pays the bill.

The cost of the avoidable procedural delays is bigger than the project budgets themselves. Los Angeles drivers spent 86 hours stuck in traffic last year and lost an average of $1,575 in time and productivity, according to INRIX. Nationally, congestion drained $85.8 billion from the economy. Every year California fails to build the transit it has planned, those numbers compound. The Wilshire corridor alone moves more than 30,000 bus riders a day. With their long commute times, they are the ones absorbing the cost of every Beverly Hills lawsuit.

California already knows how to fix this. It just did, for housing. As Angelenos were lining up for Ride the D shirts, Sacramento had just finalized Senate Bill 79, which overrides local zoning near transit stations and lets the state approve apartment construction projects that cities seek to block. The premise was simple: Housing near transit is too important to let one suburb’s parking concerns dictate a region’s future. The Legislature, after years of trying, finally agreed.

The same logic applies to the tracks themselves. A transit version of SB 79 could do three things. When a rail project is in an adopted regional plan, cities ought to have 90 days to issue construction permits, knowing the work will proceed whether or not they act. Urban rail extensions would receive a narrow California Environmental Quality Act exemption, extending the same logic California already applies to lighter projects such as bus rapid transit, light rail in existing rights-of-way and zero-emission rail. And any lawsuit challenging a transit project would have to be resolved within 270 days, with cases that exceed the deadline subject to dismissal. That’s the same expedited timeline California already uses for designated infrastructure projects. None of this is radical.

Preemption alone will not close the whole gap. Even Madrid’s advantage isn’t only about permitting. Researchers at New York University’s Transit Costs Project have spent years documenting why American transit costs eight to 12 times more than comparable projects in Italy, Sweden and Spain, and local veto power is only part of the answer. California also needs in-house engineering, standardized station designs and procurement built around economies of scale. The next governor will need to take on those problems too. But preemption is the first step, and it is the one the Legislature can take next session.

California’s two candidates for governor will spend the next five months talking about housing prices and the cost of living. Neither has yet proposed the most concrete thing a governor could do to lower both: Let California build transit again.

Payton Rockwood, a student at the Stanford Graduate School of Business, is a former transportation strategist.

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Ideas expressed in the piece

  • The article argues that the opening of Los Angeles Metro’s D Line Wilshire extension became a rare “cultural event” in part because it took 46 years from voter funding in 1980 to the opening of just three stations, underscoring how abnormal and slow major transit delivery has become in California. The column notes that the intense demand for “Ride the D” merchandise illustrates pent‑up enthusiasm for new rail service.[1]

  • The piece contends that California’s extreme timelines and costs are not inevitable side effects of democracy or strong labor laws, pointing to Madrid’s metro as a peer example: Spain has environmental protections and worker safeguards, yet Madrid can build comparable subway mileage far faster and at a fraction of the per‑mile cost.

  • According to the article, the core difference between places like Madrid and California is not engineering but governance: California has created a “permission system engineered to maximize objections,” in which layers of agencies, local veto points, and litigation make multidecade delays a predictable outcome rather than an exception.

  • The column highlights specific case studies to illustrate how local gatekeepers can stall or reshape regional transit: Beverly Hills Unified School District’s multimillion‑dollar legal campaign to stop tunneling under Beverly Hills High School, the decision by Marin County to pull out of BART in the 1960s, and spiraling costs and delays on the BART extension to downtown San José.

  • The article emphasizes that the real cost of these delays is borne by riders and the broader economy: bus commuters along Wilshire shoulder wasted hours today while rail is stalled, and traffic congestion imposes billions of dollars in lost time and productivity each year that compound every year projects are not built.

  • The piece argues that California has already demonstrated a political path out of this gridlock with recent housing reforms. By pointing to state laws such as Senate Bill 79, which preempt some local zoning decisions near transit to enable more housing, the article suggests the state has accepted that certain local objections must yield to urgent regional and statewide needs.

  • The article proposes a “transit version” of this housing preemption framework. First, when a rail project is already included in an adopted regional plan, local governments would have a short, fixed window—such as 90 days—to issue permits, after which the state could move forward regardless of local inaction or resistance.

  • Second, the column suggests creating a narrow exemption from the California Environmental Quality Act (CEQA) for urban rail extensions, aligning environmental review rules for heavy rail with the more streamlined treatment already given to projects like bus rapid transit, rail in existing rights-of-way, and other lower‑impact infrastructure.

  • Third, the piece calls for strict timelines on litigation: any lawsuit challenging a qualifying transit project would need to be resolved within a set period, such as 270 days, with cases that exceed the deadline subject to dismissal. The article points out that California already applies similar expedited timelines to some designated infrastructure, arguing it should do the same for rail.

  • Beyond preemption and legal reforms, the article cites research such as NYU’s Transit Costs Project to argue that California must also change how it delivers projects: bringing engineering expertise in‑house, standardizing station designs instead of reinventing them every time, and using procurement practices that favor repetition and economies of scale over bespoke, one‑off construction.

  • Ultimately, the column maintains that while multiple reforms are needed to close the cost and speed gap with European systems, state‑level preemption of local veto points is the crucial first step the Legislature could take in its next session, and the most concrete tool a future governor could use to reduce both housing costs and the broader cost of living by finally allowing California to build transit at scale again.

Different views on the topic

  • In contrast, many environmental and community organizations defend CEQA and robust project review as essential safeguards, arguing that “streamlining” can weaken protections for air quality, water resources, and climate, particularly in low‑income communities and communities of color that have historically borne the brunt of pollution and infrastructure impacts. These groups often argue that litigation, while frustrating to project sponsors, sometimes uncovers genuine environmental risks or design flaws that would otherwise go unaddressed.

  • Additionally, local government advocates and neighborhood groups frequently contend that the article underestimates the value of local control and public participation. From their perspective, city councils, school boards, and neighborhood associations are closer to affected residents and therefore better positioned to demand mitigations for noise, construction disruption, safety concerns, or property impacts. They warn that broad state preemption of land use and permitting weakens democratic accountability and can leave communities feeling steamrolled by distant agencies.

  • Some civic and education leaders argue that lawsuits like those brought by the Beverly Hills Unified School District reflect legitimate attempts to protect students and school facilities from perceived risks, including potential subsidence, vibration, or emergency access issues associated with tunneling under a campus, even when those concerns are ultimately rejected in court. From this view, the ability to challenge state megaprojects is a vital check on technocratic decision‑making, not simply a selfish exercise of local privilege.

  • Many environmental justice advocates also raise alarms about blanket CEQA exemptions for “urban rail,” noting that transit infrastructure decisions—such as where to place portals, yards, or construction staging—can still impose disproportionate burdens on specific neighborhoods. These critics argue that the solution is not to curtail environmental review but to improve it, with better outreach, earlier engagement, and stronger requirements to avoid or mitigate harms.

  • Some transportation economists and policy analysts question whether permitting and lawsuits are the primary drivers of America’s high rail costs. These experts point instead to factors such as complex labor and work rules, fragmented contracting structures, the relocation of utilities, higher design standards, and political choices to build more expensive underground segments rather than surface alignments. From this perspective, focusing reform energy mainly on preemption risks leaving the largest cost drivers untouched.

  • In addition, skeptics of large rail expansions argue that long‑term travel patterns are changing due to remote work, e‑commerce, and shifting job centers, which may reduce peak downtown commuting and weaken the case for very costly subway extensions. These voices often argue for prioritizing lower‑cost improvements, such as bus network redesigns, dedicated bus lanes, and maintenance of existing infrastructure, rather than committing scarce funds to new tunnels.

  • Fiscal watchdogs and taxpayer advocates also express concerns that accelerated timelines and litigation limits could reduce oversight of multibillion‑dollar projects. They argue that the ability to challenge environmental documents and project decisions in court is one of the few tools communities and independent groups have to scrutinize cost estimates, ridership projections, and risk assessments, and worry that expedited processes could increase the likelihood of cost overruns or underperforming projects.

  • Some local officials and planners warn that aggressive state preemption around both housing and transit may fuel backlash that ultimately undermines trust in public institutions and jeopardizes future funding measures. They argue that sustainable progress depends on collaborative regional planning and negotiated compromises, rather than a model in which the state routinely overrides local objections in the name of speed.

  • Finally, certain critics of European comparisons argue that differences in political culture, labor relations, and legal norms make it difficult to directly transplant models from places like Madrid. These commentators suggest that while lessons can be learned, the U.S. context—including stronger property rights protections, more litigious culture, and fragmented governance—means that attempts to simply “copy” European practices without adaptation may face both legal hurdles and public resistance.

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